


Sugar Free

by scatteringmyashes



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Baking, Domestic Fluff, Light Angst, M/M, Sylvix Advent Calendar (Fire Emblem), Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-12
Updated: 2020-12-12
Packaged: 2021-03-10 20:27:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,224
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28033131
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scatteringmyashes/pseuds/scatteringmyashes
Summary: Felix and Sylvain are spending this winter together in their own apartment for the first time. On a whim they decide to make cookies just like when they were kids. Determined to get the holiday magic right, nothing can stop them from the perfect batch of cookies!... Except themselves.
Relationships: Felix Hugo Fraldarius/Sylvain Jose Gautier
Comments: 7
Kudos: 57
Collections: Sylvix Advent Calendar





	Sugar Free

**Author's Note:**

> I was honored to be included in the Sylvix Advent Calendar! I hope that everyone enjoys the super fluffy and only mildly sad holiday fic. Also, I was able to collab with the wonderful [Evie](https://twitter.com/Yevievt) who did the art that you'll see in this fic. 
> 
> Also, there are tons of other great creations for the Advent Calendar and I really encourage you to check them out.
> 
> I hope you enjoy!

Felix despised the term  _ How hard can it be? _ That was the phrase that Ingrid said before trying the Mega Munchies Maximum Eating Challenge, or what Ashe claimed before breaking his collarbone after trying a trick shot with his bow. It was, unfortunately, what Sylvain had uttered not five minutes ago and was the exact reason why he, Felix Hugo Fraldarius-Gautier, was sitting in the car in his pajamas at  _ fuck you  _ o'clock. 

"Damn, you'd think it'd be easier to get a parking spot. It's eight am! Who goes grocery shopping at eight?" Sylvain complained as he navigated the parking lot in question. Felix gave him a look. Sylvain laughed. "Okay, okay, besides us. How was I supposed to know we didn't have flour?" 

"There's a spot," Felix said instead of his slightly less charitable thoughts. He ran his thumb against his wedding ring. With how cold it was, he should be wearing gloves and a jacket. Instead, he had piled into the car in his sweats and a long-sleeved grey shirt. 

Sylvain, the bastard, looked great in sweatpants and a sweater. Maybe Felix was just crabby because of the situation, but he could strangle Sylvain with his perfect smile and bright eyes and the little bob of his head as he hummed the tune to  _ Jingle Bells _ . 

"Do you want to stay in the car?" Sylvain asked as they pulled in. They were squeezed between a minivan on the left and a giant truck with a large American flag on the right. Felix shook his head.

"You'll end up talking to some old lady about knitting or something and we'll be here all day," Felix said, as if he wasn't charmed the last time that happened. 

"I dunno, the Chinese grandmas always like you more."

"Yeah, because I can speak Chinese." Felix shivered as he stepped out of the car. He didn't even have socks on and his sneakers were in dire need of replacing. "Do you remember what we need?" 

"Just flour. Unless you think we should get something else?" Sylvain held his hand out. Felix took it, snorting when Sylvain yelped. "Cold! How are your hands this cold? Our car has heating." 

Felix rolled his eyes. "Flour is fine. Then we can go back to our warm apartment and make these cookies." 

"You know, we can make them tomorrow," Sylvain pointed out.

"No, we decided. Today or not at all." Felix wasn't above glancing around at the other people in the parking lot. 

They lived close to the university, so they looked like two tired graduate students who were seeking a quick coffee fix from the Starbucks inside the store. The joke was on them — Felix hadn't been in school for years, Sylvain even longer. Still, it helped him feel a little less self-conscious, though if he huddled closer to Sylvain then he could always use the cold as his excuse. 

The actual locating of flour was simple. They just grabbed a small bag off the shelf, avoided giving into temptation to get doughnuts, and headed to the checkout. There was a line so Felix ran through what else they'd need for the cookies. 

"Sugar? Butter? Frosting?”

Sylvain nodded. “At home. Did you wash the cookie cutters?” 

“If I didn’t, we can do that easily.” Felix had been gifted a set of cookie cutters that were in the shape of different bladed weapons, because Annette knew him well. “Do you think we’ll need baking powder?”

“We have that. Remember the experimental volcano I made a few months ago?” Sylvain grinned. “I still can’t believe that we got the stain out of the carpet.” 

“I can’t believe that you convinced Dimitri to help you.” Felix thought about it. “Never mind. I can’t believe that you convinced  _ Dedue _ that it was a good idea.”

“Their kid needs enrichment. He keeps acting out because his dads are actually seventy.” Sylvain squeezed Felix’s hand. “You like Zoltan.”

Felix grunted, because if he said anything else he’d have to agree. 

The line moved blessedly quickly and soon they were ready to pay. Sylvain pat his pockets. He gave the cashier a sheepy grin. 

“Hey, Fe, do you have your wallet?” He asked.

Felix gestured towards himself. “My pants don’t have pockets. Didn’t you drive us here?” 

“I have the keys,” Sylvain said unnecessarily, because  _ obviously _ he had them. “Can you check the car? I probably just left it in there. Sorry about this,” he told the teenager who probably wasn’t paid enough to deal with this. 

“I’ll check the car,” Felix confirmed. He grabbed the keys out of Sylvain’s hands and was about to walk off when someone said,

“Here.” It was a guy who couldn’t be much older than Felix, if not the same age, with striking blue hair. He handed the cashier a ten. “Is that enough?” 

“Yeah.” The bored cashier pressed a few buttons on the register and it dinged. She started to grab the change as Sylvain turned to the stranger.

“Thanks man, seriously. I guess we were just too excited this morning and forgot our stuff.” Sylvain laughed nervously. Felix wished he had grabbed a jacket so he could drown himself in it. 

The stranger shrugged, rubbing the back of his neck. “It’s nothing — just some holiday goodwill. Pay it forward.”

“I will!” Sylvain swore, and knowing him he absolutely would. He’d come a long way since the high school hellion who was intent on exploding and taking everything with him. Heck, so had Felix. “Happy holidays.” Sylvain looked like he wanted to try to give the guy his number or, worse, give him a hug. 

Taking matters into one hand and the flour into the other, Felix jerked his head towards the exit. “Come on, let’s stop holding the line up.” He started leaving before his sentence was finished. Sylvain jogged to catch up. 

“Hey,” Sylvain said. He threw an arm over Felix’s shoulders. Felix decided he didn’t mind, slowing so their paces matched. ”You wanna know something?” 

Felix raised an eyebrow. Sylvain’s grin stretched ear to ear. 

“I love you.” 

Felix half-elbowed him in the gut, but he tilted his head up and returned the kiss Sylvain gave him. He still tasted like the sickeningly sweet coffee that he drank every morning in an attempt to jolt himself into awareness. Felix was used to it, like how Sylvain drooled a bit in his sleep or how he liked his toothbrush being on the left side of the holder. He didn’t know if he would say he liked it, but did a person ever like water being wet or snow being cold? It just  _ was _ . Felix couldn’t change Sylvain anymore than he could change the color of the sky. 

He wouldn't want to, anyways. 

They had to split apart to get into the car. The big truck from earlier was gone so Felix didn’t have to contort himself to squeeze in. Felix tossed the the flour from hand to hand as he waited for Sylvain to unlock it, looking down at the door and—

“What the fuck?” 

Sylvain glanced over. “Everything okay?” 

“No, some asshole dented our car!” Felix stomped on the ground. Immature, maybe, but so was leaving a dent without a note. “It must have been that asshole with the truck. Is there a note on your side?” 

“Nope.” Sylvain came over to the right side. He winced when he saw the damage. “Well, at least we have insurance.” 

“I’m going to kill him,” Felix said, even though he had no way of following up on his threat. Sylvain was frowning but he didn’t argue. “Come on, let’s go home before something else happens.” 

Sylvain went back to his side, blasting the heat as soon as Felix closed his door. “That should be all of our bad luck for the day,” Sylvain mused. “What else can go wrong?”

Felix groaned, shoving his face in his hands. The sound of  _ Deck The Halls _ couldn’t quite drown out the way Sylvain cackled. 

****

As soon as they got home, Felix made a beeline for the bedroom. If they were going to make cookies, he was doing it in real clothes. The less laundry he had to do, the better. Besides, surely Sylvain could set everything out without any issues. 

That didn’t stop his heart from skipping a beat when he heard Sylvain shout,

“Hey, Fe, weird question for you!” 

“If we forgot something, you are going back by yourself,” Felix replied, tugging his sweater on. It was a bit of a muted green, a holiday gift from last year from Mercedes. He felt festive, sue him. 

In the kitchen, Sylvain was opening one of the upper cabinets. He turned when he heard Felix walk in. 

“I can’t find the measuring cups.” 

“What?” Felix started searching, yanking open drawers with a bit more force than strictly necessary. “They have to be here. I mean, where else could they be?” 

“I don’t know!” Sylvain had placed the recipe cards on the counter and now swiped them up with a dramatic flourish. “Do you think it’s that important, though? Like, I know what a cup looks like.” 

Felix squinted at the cards. They were a Fraldarius family heirloom — at least, that was what Rodrigue had joked when he handed the box over during Felix and Sylvain’s housewarming. Considering that Felix could count on one hand the number of things he had from his mother, he was more inclined to agree than he cared to admit aloud. Still, one thing he had inherited from his mother was her handwriting. 

That was not a good thing. 

“I think it’ll be fine,” Sylvain continued. “Plus, this way we can get started and still finish them before it’s lunch.”

“Why are you in a rush?” Felix asked, raising an eyebrow. Sylvain grinned. 

“What, a guy can’t just want to spend an afternoon eating cookies and watching cheesy Christmas movies with his husband?”

“No,” Felix replied. Sylvain laughed, going back to searching the kitchen. Felix examined the card in his hand and the ingredients on the counter. He wondered if his fake sugar would cause any issues. It worked the same in coffee and it tasted pretty much identical, so he decided not to worry about it. 

There weren’t any bowls out, so Felix fetched those. He even grabbed a mixing spoon and made sure the cookie cutters were out.  _ Annette is going to be thrilled, _ he thought. He had everything set out at about the same time as Sylvain pushed the fridge door shut.

“I think it is safe to say that the measuring cups are not in our apartment,” he declared. 

“You haven’t checked the bathroom yet,” Felix deadpanned. 

“Why would I check the bathroom?” Sylvain blinked. It took Felix a moment to realize he was joking and it earned Sylvain a gentle smack to the shoulder. 

“Go put on your stupid sweater,” Felix told him. “If you don’t, you’ll just complain about getting flour all over yourself.” 

“Okay, but don’t start without me.” Sylvain leaned forward and kissed Felix on the forehead,  _ like an asshole, _ dodging out of the way of Felix’s hands. He laughed at Felix’s pout, holding his arms out. “Want a hug, babe?”

“No,” Felix grumbled even as he hugged Sylvain. He yanked his chin down, forcing Sylvain to a more comfortable height so they could kiss properly. Felix would rather be run over by Dimitri’s eco-friendly Prius than admit it, but he liked the new chapstick that Sylvain used. It smelled faintly like coconut and made his lips soft, a contrast to the stubble that persisted along his jaw. 

Another thing that Felix would never say aloud, but he wouldn’t mind if Sylvain grew a beard. Maybe not immediately, they felt too young for that, but in a few years. Felix was already beating Sylvain’s multiple suitors off with a scowl, though, and he didn’t need more competition. Though, the wedding rings did help—

“Not that I don’t want to stand here making out in our kitchen, but I am going to get changed so at least I’m not in this.” Sylvain gestured at himself. His sweatpants did kill the mood a bit. Only a bit. 

Still, Felix nodded and watched him exit the kitchen, humming  _ Twelve Days of Christmas _ under his breath.  _ Sap, _ Felix thought. It was wild in the best of ways to see Sylvain now as opposed to when they were in college, or even when they were kids who didn’t know that one of them would end up on hormones and one of them would get disowned. 

Sylvain hadn’t liked Christmas as a kid. Too cold, too boring, too much — Felix hadn’t understood why. He had good memories of playing in the snow, chasing after Glenn and the others. He remembered hot chocolate burning his tongue and eating too many marshmallows to compensate. And, most vivid of them all, he could recall with perfect clarity the time they all made cookies together. 

Well, his mother had done most of the hard work. Glenn was getting  _ too old _ for baby things, but he still helped Felix give his cookie a little sword. Sylvain’s cookie had red frosting hair and a bright blue shirt. Dimitri had chocolate-chip eyes and Ingrid had eaten all the remaining cookie dough, only to get a stomach ache that afternoon. 

Felix had wanted nothing more than to eat all the cookies as soon as they were done, but Rodrigue had made them take a photo together. He wasn’t sure where it was now, what forgotten photo album the picture had ended up in, but Felix liked to think it still existed. Even if he looked like an idiot holding up an ugly cookie on a chipped plate. 

“Back!” Sylvain announced, swooping in. He had a Santa hat and the same red sweater, but had swapped his sweats out for actual jeans. Felix snorted, only fighting a little to keep his smile off his face. “Let’s get started on breaking in the kitchen.” 

“We already did that.” This time Felix did grin. Sylvain laughed, wrapping his arms around him. 

“Yes, we did, but we haven’t made Christmas cookies yet. I can smell it now—”

“The smell of flour and sugar substitute?” 

“The smell of freshly baked cookies as we listen to a bad laugh track and you complain about the plot inconsistencies in the latest Hallmark film. You know, there’s a gay one out now.” 

“You’re the gay one out,” Felix said, because he was still internally twelve. 

“This is bisexual erasure,” Sylvain mock-complained, putting a hand over his forehead and fluttering his eyelashes. “I can’t believe I’m married to someone who participates in bi erasure. Will the silencing of queer voices ever stop?” 

“Oh my God. I’m trans, you  _ ass _ ,” Felix said, poking Sylvain in the side. “Shut up and help me make these cookies. How much do you think is in a tablespoon?” 

Sylvain kept one hand on his forehead, the other one groping across the counter as his eyes were squeezed shut. He knocked over the flour and hit an egg, sending it flying. It made an unfortunately satisfying  _ crunch  _ as it hit the ground. There was a moment when neither of them moved. 

Felix looked at it. Then he looked at Sylvain, who still had his eyes closed but wasn’t moving his hand around anymore. 

“Hey, Fe?” 

“Yes, Sylvain?” 

“Was that one of the eggs?”

“Yes.”

Sylvain opened one eye. “Do you think we  _ really _ need two eggs for this recipe?” 

Felix felt his brain short-circuit. “Why are you asking?” He said, trying to remember the breathing exercise that his therapist kept telling him about. Was it exhale on four, inhale on seven, or the other way around? 

“I think those are our last eggs.” 

****

“These are adorable,” Sylvain said, pressing the sword cookie cutter into the dough. It was a bit crumbly, but it still resembled dough and the chocolate chips would melt and make it more chewy. Felix smiled, using the shuriken one and making sure there was space between the different cookies for them to grow. “Have you sent a photo to the group chat?” 

Felix shook his head. Sylvain grinned, patting his pockets for his phone. When he drew it out, he flipped it into selfie mode and posed in front of the tray. 

“Say, gingerbread!”

“These are chocolate chip—” Felix was cut off as the sound of Sylvain’s shutter went off. He knew better than to fight the inevitable, waiting for Sylvain to upload it to the chat to look at his own humiliation. When his phone buzzed, he drew it out, already sighing in anticipation. 

In Sylvain’s defense, it wasn’t too bad. Felix looked like he was shouting, which was normal, but his hair was out of his face and he didn’t look like someone who hadn’t made cookies in the last six years. Sylvain looked great, if a bit blurry, though his shoulders hid most of the cookie tray. 

Annette was the first to see and sent about a dozen hearts before expressing her excitement to see the finishing products. Ingrid gave them a thumbs up and Dedue, a man of little faith in Sylvain and Felix’s baking abilities apparently, sent a link to the Poison Control Center’s website. 

Felix threw a bit of cookie dough at Sylvain, who yelped. 

“What was that for?” He asked, pulling it off his shirt and tossing it in the sink. 

“Help me finish cutting these out so we can stick the monsters in the oven,” Felix said, as if they had been going at this for so long. There weren’t even that many cookies — being down a whole egg, they decided to trim down a few of the other portions, though that probably would have been easier if they had been able to measure anything. Felix was still convinced they had a bit too much sugar substitute, but Sylvain swore he knew what three-fifths of a cup looked like. 

Felix thought that Sylvain didn’t even know what three-fifths of his wardrobe looked like, but he hadn’t argued for the sake of Christmas goodwill or something. That sounded a lot better than the fact that he was enamored with seeing Sylvain’s face contort into his  _ I am thinking _ expression, the one with his eyebrows drawn and his mouth a thin line and his ears twitching every once in a while from the intensity of his thoughts. If he had to compromise with the sweetness of his future cookies, well, he just added more chocolate chips to make it up. 

“That’s all of them!” Sylvain proudly declared, setting his cookie cutter aside and brushing his hands off. “Okay, I think we stick this tray in first because it has more. “

“Sure.” He watched Sylvain pick the tray up and brace himself before opening the oven. There was no wave of heat, no shimmer of warmth. “Dammit,” Felix said.

The oven was not on. Sylvain groaned. He shoved the tray in and turned the dial. 

“What is the temperature?” He asked. 

“360,” Felix said off the top of his head. Sylvain set up the oven before putting his hands on his hips. “So now we wait?” Felix eyed the red light. 

“I don’t know if we leave them in the oven, but it can’t hurt. It’ll cook faster,” Sylvain reasoned. He grinned at Felix, not at all deterred by this brief inconvenience. “Wanna watch something?” Felix didn’t have a better idea, so he let Sylvain take his hand and drag him into the living room. Not a minute later, he was being held in Sylvain’s arms while the television played some cheesy commercial for eggnog. 

Felix snorted when he felt Sylvain start pressing kisses to the back of his neck. Sylvain’s lips quirked up in a smile. 

“Yeah?” He asked, the picture of casual innocence. Felix shifted so that they were face-to-face. Sylvain’s smile grew. “Want to know something?”

“Do I?”

“I love you,” Sylvain said. He kissed Felix, who was more than content to tangle his fingers in Sylvain’s hair and press their lips together.

It was soft and lazy, a casual kiss that deepened when Sylvain rolled them so he was kneeling on top. Felix was the one who licked Sylvain’s bottom lip and Sylvain was the one who let out a soft sigh as Felix tugged on his hair. Felix ran his free hand across Sylvain’s shoulders as Sylvain rubbed circles against Felix’s belt loops. Neither of them were in a rush. Neither of them considered the time. There were no thoughts in their head, only the sound of a cheesy Christmas laughtrack and the physical grounding sensation of having the other in close embrace. 

There were benefits to being married and there were benefits to living together and there were  _ many _ benefits, Felix decided, to celebrating Christmas alone. 

Well, not truly alone. He couldn’t say that he was alone now, not with Sylvain by his side. And not with Sylvain kissing him, their breath mingling and their hands roaming in places that were not strictly appropriate, maybe, for an early morning. 

“You know, that sweater looks great on you,” Sylvain said as they paused for air. Felix brushed his hair out of his eyes, making sure that Sylvain could see the way he raised a skeptical eyebrow. “It does! It brings out your eyes or something.”

“We’re already married. You don’t need to flatter me.” 

“I’m not flattering you. I’m telling you the truth.” Sylvain affectionately poked Felix in the side. “I do that from time to time.”

Felix scoffed but leaned up, elbows pressed against the couch cushion. He brushed his lips against Sylvain’s, mouth part open as he murmured, “Is this where you say that it would look better on your floor?” 

“That nice of a sweater should be hung up, actually,” Sylvain replied before Felix decided he didn’t care about listening to dry cleaning instructions or how he should fold things properly. Instead he captured Sylvain’s lips in his and that ended the discussion. 

At least, it did for another minute before a terrible beep rang through the apartment, making Felix jolt in alarm and slam his elbow in Sylvain’s side. Sylvain grunted, almost rolling off his perch in Felix’s lap. 

“Sorry,” Felix said, feeling a different kind of blush start to cover his face. “You already put the cookies in, right?” 

“Yeah, but I should probably go check on them.” Sylvain groaned and gave an exaggerated stretch as he lumbered away, heading towards the kitchen.

“You need ice for your back?” Felix teased. 

“Hm, I was hoping for a massage,” Sylvain shouted back. There was a  _ screech _ as he opened the oven. “They look good. Gonna set the timer for thirty minutes. That good?” 

Felix didn’t know why Sylvain was asking when he was the one with the recipe right there, but he shouted his agreement anyways. He tugged his hair tie out and ran his fingers through a few of the strands. He was tugging knots out of it when Sylvain came back, throwing himself back on the couch and watching Felix with bright eyes. 

“So thirty minutes… You want to watch something?” Sylvain gestured towards the TV. Felix gave him a noncommittal grunt. “We can do something else if you want.” 

There was silence for a moment, save for the television which was now encouraging them to get  _ great deals on a new Toyota this holiday season! _ Sylvain was waiting for him to do something and Felix knew it, but he was content to make him wait. Though, out of the two of them Felix had always been the impatient one and they both knew it. 

He finished combing the tangles out of his hair. Then, with ease born of practice, he flipped it over his shoulder. His eyes locked with Sylvain’s with deadly confidence. Sylvain swallowed, Adam’s Apple bobbing like a lure on a fishhook. Felix gave him a lazy smirk, letting his head tilt to the side and his hair tumble across his shoulders. 

“I had some things in mind, yeah.” Felix stood, walking away from the couch. Sylvain made a confused noise before realizing where Felix was heading. With a laugh, Sylvain ran after him. Felix didn’t protest as he was swept off his feet and carried the last few steps towards their bedroom. 

**** 

The cookies burnt. Felix stared at the sad remnants on the tray, a combination of resignation and utter indignation threatening to mix together in an unholy concoction not unlike the abomination that sat in front of him. There was still smoke in the air, a slight haze that wasn’t quite enough to be concerning and hadn’t yet set the fire alarm off.

Sylvain patted him on the shoulder. “At least there’s the other tray,” he pointed out. 

“It’s fine,” Felix insisted. He scowled, crossing his arms. “Put them in and let’s not get distracted this time,” he said, as if it was Sylvain’s fault. The only thing Sylvain could be blamed for was the hickey on his neck, but it was disingenuous to pretend Felix hadn’t been egging him on. 

Taking matters into his own hands, Felix grabbed the second — and last — tray and shoved it in the still hot oven. He spun on his heel and looked at Sylvain. 

“We are not leaving the living room. Understood?”

  
“Crystal.” Sylvain followed him into the aforementioned space, sitting on the opposite end of the couch. Felix didn’t notice, shaking his knee and trying to spot all the red things in the room to avoid the urge to go on a run or hop down to the gym. 

It was enough to get him to calm down, to remember that this didn’t matter. It was just a bunch of stupid cookies, not even a holiday tradition. Felix didn’t have holiday traditions, because that required a family that was actually functional and that hadn’t been the case since his mother died. 

He looked at Sylvain. 

“Are you okay?” Sylvain asked. 

Felix didn’t answer him. He held out one hand, about as much a concession as he ever could manage. It was enough for Sylvain to understand, though, and soon Sylvain was next to him. Sylvain pulled him into his arms and pressed a kiss to the top of his head. 

“Love you,” Sylvain murmured. Felix rolled his eyes but tugged Sylvain close so that they were kissing once more. Even after having a fun time, Felix was up for more. 

It was one of the refreshing things about being with someone who cared for him and respected him. Felix never got that tingling of self-doubt anymore, that internal fear that Sylvain wasn’t seeing him as a man or that he only desired him for his body. Fuck, Sylvain didn’t even fear that Felix only wanted him for the sex. They were  _ married _ now. 

Ingrid had cried and laughed herself silly when she heard, like any good friend. 

Felix wasn’t thinking about Ingrid when his fingers intertwined with Sylvain, his wedding ring drawing his focus even as their lips parted and tongues started to dance together. It was only sheer determination that kept their clothes on. That and the fact that they had already burnt one round of cookies. It was just too easy, too familiar to be next to one another like this and to enjoy one another like this. 

It was so nice that Felix quickly lost track and time, lazily trading spit with Sylvain and letting his hands roam but keeping it painfully above the belt. This made up for the chaotic morning, for the difficulty getting the ingredients together, even for the first batch that had gone up in smoke.

Smoke… Smoke? Felix smelled smoke. 

“Fuck!” Sylvain and Felix both bolted upright at the same time, a joint realization striking them like lightning. 

“Why didn’t the timer go off?” Sylvain wondered as they scrambled to the kitchen. The smoke was hanging in the air, not quite thick enough to be choking but enough that Felix went to open a window when Sylvain headed to the oven. 

Felix threw the window open, coughing as his eyes started to burn. Sylvain was waving a towel in the air as more smoke poured out of the now-open oven, the heat fighting against the chill that crawled through the window. In the oven, sad and extra crispy, sat the cookies. 

The timer was off, never set in the first place. 

“Fuck,” Felix echoed himself from earlier. “Fuck, fuck, fuck—” He stormed out of the kitchen, head spinning.

The whole point of this damn experience was to enjoy himself, to spend time with Sylvain and to form good memories together. And now Felix was facing the undeniable fact that he couldn’t even keep it together long enough to make a batch of cookies. How could he be expected to form a life if he couldn’t form a bunch of baked goods? 

_ This is bullshit, _ Felix thought.  _ I should not let this ruin my mood. I am not a child. I am not a fucking child. I am— _

“You know, this was a lot of fun,” Sylvain said. Felix looked at him. Sylvain had thrown the towel over his shoulder and was leaning against the wall, arms crossed. “I had a good time today. Sure, the cookies were a bummer. Gonna have to get the car fixed. And I think that we might need to get takeout for a few nights. But it was good.” Sylvain stepped closed to Felix, who tensed. 

He breathed out and forced his shoulders back down. 

“You don’t have to be a sap about it,” Felix said, looking down at the ground. 

“I’m not. I’m telling the truth.” Sylvain inched closed until they were face to face, or would be if Felix looked him in the eyes. “Why are you upset? They’re only cookies, Fe. I promise I don’t care.” 

“I’m not angry,” Felix lied, rubbing at his eyes. “I just had smoke in my eyes.” He swallowed, trying to force his heart to stop beating and his throat to stop tightening. Sylvain waited. He was good at that. “I just — How the  _ fuck _ did I mess up cookies?” 

“Actually, we messed them up,” Sylvain corrected. “Hey, Fe, look at me?” 

Felix looked up at him, trying to glare and not quite managing it. Sylvain smiled. That annoying bastard managed to look good even when he had just put an oven fire out. 

“I love you. This was great. It’s going to be really funny next year,” Sylvain emphasized. 

“I guess.” Felix poked Sylvain in the side. “Thanks for putting the fire out.” 

“That’s what I’m here for — opening pickle jars and putting fires out.” 

Felix rolled his eyes, but he could feel himself smile. “We don’t eat pickles.” 

“I help Ashe!” Sylvain protested. “That isn’t the point. You know what I got to do this afternoon? I got to spend time with my husband and make memories with him. That’s all I wanted.” Sylvain reached out and took Felix’s hand before pressing a kiss to his ring. “I love you.”

“... I love you too, sap,” Felix murmured. He let Sylvain hug him and he decided, maybe, it wasn’t a complete waste of a day. 

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/ashes8012)!


End file.
